


Dean Gets His Wish

by CoffeeJay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Not Oblivious, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean is a total sap, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Flustered Dean, Insecure Dean, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Picnics, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7095022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeJay/pseuds/CoffeeJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean is a romantic sap and very easily flustered, Castiel sees more than he lets on, and a ring ends up on a finger eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Gets His Wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bookkbaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookkbaby/gifts).



“Where are we going, Dean?”

The blush that had been developing on Dean’s cheeks only spread further at the question, and Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.  “I told you, Cas,” Dean explained, “It’s a surprise.”  With a winning grin he glanced over at Cas, but his heart skipped a beat when he took in the confused little furrow of his brow and the glittering blue of his eyes and the wind-strewn strands of his messy, messy hair.  The ring in Dean’s pocket seemed to press against Dean’s heart with ten times its weight, and the road was at the same time too long and too short.

Dean prayed to every power that would listen that the angel sitting next to him wanted as badly as Dean did to spend the rest of their existences together. 

Gravel crunched beneath the Impala as it came to a halt on top of a hill with a stunning view of the night sky.  Dean inhaled deeply as he turned the engine off, exhaling a lame, “Surprise,” when Cas looked over at him with a bemused little upturn on his lips.  They lingered like that, each holding the other’s gaze, before Dean reluctantly broke contact to reach down over the seat.  A ratty old blanket and a basket of food came up in his hands. 

“You know Dean,” Cas said in a conspiratory voice, “If I didn’t know any better, I might begin to think we’re on a date.”

Dean snorted and fumbled with the door handle.  The days of Dean refusing to call their dates “dates” were long gone.  Longer gone were the days of Dean taking Cas out to little side-of-the-road markets to which they didn’t need to go, just the two of them, just to see Cas smile, while still insisting in his head somehow that friends were all they were to each other.  Cas remembered vividly the first time that Dean had asked him, officially, on a date, all the while blushing and stammering but refusing to let his doubts overtake him.  The memory made Cas smile.

 “Where’d you get that idea?” Dean replied in kind.  “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”  With that, he exited the vehicle.  The slamming of two of the Impala’s doors shattered the quiet of the night that had heretofore been accompanied only by the soft songs of crickets and the rustling of long blades of grass in the warm summer breeze.  The full moon and a billion stars illuminated the couple’s steps as they trudged the short distance up the gravel path towards a little patch of hill that, Cas discovered with a pleased little gasp, was covered with beautiful, delicate wildflowers. 

The content ambience of the hillside floated in the air as Dean handed the basket over to Cas and began spreading the blanket over the earth.  Cas took this moment to breathe in the fresh scent of a thousand flowers and other plants, watching Dean tug the worst of the wrinkles from the corners of the blankets.  Cas’s gaze went upwards, towards the sky.  Looking at the stars always filled him with something like nostalgia, but more pointed, something like an ache that was still healing, something like longing or wistfulness or a thousand other feelings that Castiel was still learning to name that seemed to more bountiful than all the stars in the heavens. 

“Hey, Earth to Cas,” called Dean from the blanket where he was now seated.  Cas looked over at him, suddenly pulled from his daze, not sure of how long he had been standing, staring, up at the cosmos.  “You okay?”  Faint worry bloomed in the back of Dean’s mind.  What if Cas was having doubts about being with Dean? What if he was regretting choosing Dean, or wanted to be understood better, or didn't—

“Yes, Dean, I’m fine,” Cas answered, stopping Dean’s racing thoughts immediately.  As he plopped down beside Dean, he continued, “I was just admiring the sky.  Each star is unique, and I remember when each of them was created, every nebula, every galaxy. My Father’s work is truly beautiful.”  At the last phrase, he turned to Dean with that same, piercing gaze that he used to take in the wonder of the stars, and Dean’s heart did a wobbly little skip in his chest.  Only Cas was capable of flirting with him in such a way that left Dean unsure if it was even meant to be flirting. 

Dean swallowed.  He could do this.  But first, dinner.  Reaching into the basket, he produced a couple of homemade burgers wrapped in tin foil and handed one of them to Cas, who took it gratefully and began unwrapping it.  “Made it just the way you like it, with a little pickle and some mustard, and—“

Cas took a bite, chewed, swallowed.  “—And extra onion?” He finished Dean’s sentence, a crooked smile on his face.  “I think this one is yours, Dean.”

“Shit, crap, sorry—“ Dean fumbled, switching their food between them, slightly embarrassed. 

Cas, meanwhile, had laughter in his eyes as he watched Dean’s momentary flailing.  Leaning over, he kissed Dean’s cheek and scooted close enough that their legs were touching.  “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”  He unwrapped the second burger, doing his best to not notice that Dean’s cheeks were quickly turning pink and that he was all but hiding behind his hamburger.  Taking a bite, Cas wondered vaguely why Dean seemed so nervous tonight, but was soon humming in satisfaction around the food in his mouth.  “This is truly how I like it.”

Trying to regain his composure, Dean swallowed down his fear and his food and resolved to take in the night with his favorite person in the universe or, the way things were going so far, somehow embarrass himself to death trying.  When the dinner had been depleted in the midst of murmured nothings and pleasant little bits of conversation about the stars or the flowers, Dean decided it was time to initiate phase two of his plan: cuddling.

Dean looked over and, for a moment, watched the stars sparkle reflected in Cas’s blue eyes as he gazed into the silvery night sky, seemingly lost in thought.  Moving slowly and smoothly, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and kissed his jaw, loving the feel of stubble on his lips.  Cas automatically leaned into the touch and came easily with Dean as he pulled them backwards so that Cas could lie on Dean’s arm.  Soon their lips met and their hands were wrapped around the other in a slow, sensual rhythm devoid of desperation or urgency but full of desire to feel close, to express love through caresses of the cheek or the rub of a thumb across an arm.

When they had settled comfortably and the kisses had slowed to the occasional light press of lips here and there, Dean and Cas sighed quietly, content.  Suddenly Cas pointed skyward. “Dean, look.” Dean’s eyes widened in surprise as a shooting star grazed the atmosphere.

“Make a wish, Cas,” Dean prodded, looking over at the angel with a childlike glee on his face.  Cas thought the notion of wishing on a flaming rock was so endearingly human and was filled with fondness for Dean, who, despite everything, could still wish on a shooting star.  “Come on, Cas,” Dean playfully urged, impatient.  “I’ll tell you my wish if you tell me yours.”  Cas opened his mouth to respond but Dean quickly interjected, “And don’t say “world peace” or some crap like that.  It has to be a wish for you.”

Cas contemplated the question with all the gravity of an angel of the Lord, ignoring the fact that world peace would make his existence endlessly simpler and would certainly fall under the category of a selfish wish.  A selfish wish…  What did Cas want?  After pondering for so long that Dean was beginning to wonder if he would ever get an answer, Cas tightened his grip on Dean’s hand and responded quietly, “I would wish for my wings to be restored to me fully.  I miss…” he trailed off, reaching for words. “I miss being able to go there,” he said, gesturing to the entirety of the universe above him.  Dean’s heart clenched painfully, because in this moment, Cas looked so deeply sad that Dean thought for a second he might cry.  Dean’s immediate response was to pepper Cas’s face and neck with kisses in hopes that the pain there would fade away.  It worked, for the most part, to temporarily dull an ache that Cas knew might never fully heal.  After growing up with the whole universe as a playground, the Earth would always seem so small and fragile to Castiel, no matter how much he loved it, and being for the most part tethered to it… well.  Dean made that much more bearable.

When calm had overtaken both of them once more, Cas ventured to ask, “What about you, Dean?  What would you wish for?”

Suddenly Dean’s heartbeat quickened.  This was it.  Now or never.  Well, probably not never, but later, and Dean wanted to do this now, damn it.  “I’ve had this wish for a long time, Cas,” Dean began.  His throat was very dry all of a sudden, and he coughed to clear it.  “It’s a very selfish wish, probably, and it might never come true,” Dean tried to smother the panic that had sparked at the thought.  “But, God, do I want it to.”

Cas had certainly noticed Dean’s odd demeanor and was beginning to be concerned for him.  “What is it, Dean?” he pressed, hoping for an answer.

A deep inhale steeled Dean for what he would say next.  “Cas, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he began torn between wanting to look Cas in the eyes as he said this and wanting to hide away somewhere to bury his nerves, every word he had rehearsed in his mind suddenly gone.  “My life was, well, hell before you found me—“ here Dean chuckled nervously, but Cas was hanging on to his every word, “—and I don’t know what I would do if you ever… I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.”  Dean reached up to his pocket to pull out the ring and—

_Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit—_

Dean patted his shirt down for the missing ring, and then patted down the blanket around him, flooding with relief when his fingers grasped a cold round object beside him.  Cas was fairly certain that Dean might be having some sort of episode until Dean raised the ring up and held it so that Cas could see it.  Cas’s eyes widened and his lips parted when he realized what Dean held.  Realizing belatedly that his hands were shaking, Dean cleared his throat and continued as though nothing had happened.  “It would make my wish come true if… I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and wake up next to you every morning, and make you coffee because you can be grumpy in the mornings, and…” Dean was shaking at this point, so nervous that he didn’t even notice that his cheeks were wet.  He looked at Cas’s ever-patient, ever-understanding face, and knew that that was the face of the love of his life. “Please, Castiel, will you marry me?”

Cas’s eyes were shining, and for one heart-stopping moment he just stared at Dean, until the next moment his lips were on Dean’s and he was kissing him like he might never be able to again.  Between whispers of “yes” and “love you” and “need you,” Dean managed to slip the ring onto Cas’s finger, and with that simple action, both Dean’s and Castiel’s doubts about being loved or wanted by the other seemed to fall away, at least for a little while, and the stars smiled down upon the angel and the hunter who were destined to be together until the end of time itself.


End file.
